The Beginning of the End
by cherryberrylick
Summary: Voldemort decides, upon seeing the infant Harry, that instead of killing him, he will raise him, to create a formidable and powerful ally. But what happens when Harry, age 16, heir to the Death Eater throne, discovers the truth about his past?
1. Chapter 1

The Beginning of the End

Voldemort decides, upon seeing the infant Harry, that instead of killing him, he will raise him, to create a formidable and powerful ally. But what happens when Harry, age 16, heir to the Death Eater throne, discovers the truth about his past?

J.K. Rowling owns everything. I am nothing.

Godric's Hollow

Halloween. 15 years ago.

Voldemort entered the Potter's home, laughing in his head at how oblivious James and Lily Potter were. James was playing with Harry in the living room, and the little boy was laughing. Lily was somewhere else, yet neither of them could have known that the fidelous charm had been broken, Peter Pettigrew betraying their trust to the Death Eaters.

James came out into the hallway, unarmed, his face showing alarm.

"Lily! It's him! Take Harry and go!" James yelled.

Voldemort laughed, and with a flick of his wand, and the killing curse on his lips, there erupted a flash of green from the tip of his wand that brought James to his quick death.

Voldemort heard Lily upstairs, and so he made his way up there, his mind always on the baby Harry, who, if his sources were correct, would one day defeat him… Him, the most powerful wizard that ever lived…

Lily had her arms outstretched, protecting Harry, her face swimming in tears.

"Don't kill him! Kill me instead!" she was yelling.

Voldemort sneered.

"You silly mudblood. Stand aside, and I will have no reason to kill you. Why… I might even allow you to join my side if you're good…" Voldemort said.

"Never! I would never!" she yelled, still rooted to the same spot.

"So be it! Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort yelled, and Lily fell dead onto the floor, just like her husband had a moment before.

Voldemort laughed, a sick, twisted, maniacal laugh that seemed ceaseless. He approached the crib Harry was laying in, and looked down on the boy. The splitting image of James, even at such a young age, Voldemort felt nothing but hatred for the thing.

He lifted his wand, about to mutter the killing curse, when Harry started crying. At once, the lights flicked on and off in the house, as well as all along down the street. Voldemort snuck a look outside, and for a brief second all the lights in Godric's Hollow seemed to have burned ever more brightly, then extinguished themselves at once. Voldemort was left in darkness with the baby Harry, the only light streaming in through the window from the moon outside.

Voldemort looked down at Harry, who had quit crying and was instead sniffling quietly. Such power… At such a young age…

He thought of what power the boy might possess, how he would be able to do things average wizards would kill to be given the power to do… And he saw the boy turn on him, in a fight many years hence, wand aloft and staring right at him, killing him…

He raised his wand immediately, determined to finish him off, when a sly thought entered his mind… What if…? What if somehow… the boy would be able not to use his power against him… but to help him?

Voldemort gazed down at Harry. Together… Apart, one would eventually have to kill the other… But if Voldemort was able to get Harry under his wing, train him in the dark arts, what a formidable ally he would be…

Mind decided, he picked up Harry, glad when the he did not start crying again, and dissaperated on the spot, leaving the house, and leaving Godric's Hollow forever.

15 years later…

Harry stared at his parchment, quill in hand, wondering just how to begin the essay he had been assigned to do over the winter holidays… It was on the basilik species of snakes, though it was not a lack of knowledge on the subject that kept him from getting started; he simply knew too much about them and was having trouble narrowing down the information to write a brief two page essay.

Thinking that maybe lunch and a quick word with his father would help him, he got up from his desk and called for Latch, the house elf who oversaw the kitchens.

"Yes Master Harry?" Latch said, bowing low, his ears quivering in fear.

Harry smirked, seeing that the indent he had left on the house elf's shoulder with his boot the last time Latch had been disobedient was still very visible.

"A quick lunch Latch, I'll be taking a shower, I expect it to be here by the time I am done," Harry said.

Latch nodded. "Yes, of course. Would master like anything in particular?"

"Some toast and spread would be good," Harry said. "And my tea the way I like it."

Latch bowed again. "Of course, of course, right away."

The house elf dissaperated, and Harry stalked over to his closet, and opened the doors, stepping inside. He had a walk in closet; with the amount of clothes and things he had, the size of it had been quite necessary.

He picked out a navy colored robe with silver trimmings, some underwear, socks and shoes, then laid them out on his four poster bed. He then stripped of his clothes, threw them on the floor, and walked into his private bathroom. A tub which could have fit maybe fifteen people comfortably was on one end; everything was spotless and shone; gold and white marble adorned the room.

He took a quick bath, dried himself then walked into his room. His toast and ten different spreads were laid out, as was his tea, steaming on a small plate. He dressed, ate quickly, then left his room to find his father, whom he thought could help him start the essay on basilisks.

He meandered up and down the vast hallways of the mansion he lived in, with save no one else except his father. It was rather large, with ornate staircases, marble floors, priceless works of art along the walls, and a large backyard that stretched for miles until it hit the wild forests of Albania.

Thinking he must have been in his study, Harry went down two flights of stairs and turned a sharp left. He came upon a magnificent red oak door, and gently knocked.

"Come in," said a voice from within.

Harry opened the door and stepped foot in his father's study, which was rather dark, the curtains having been closed except for a sliver, and with a fire impossibly high in the large fireplace behind the an ornate desk and high backed chair. In the chair was a tall, thin pale man, his nostrils snakelike, his mouth nothing more than a horizontal slit on his face and impossibly red catlike eyes. He was writing something down a piece of parchment, but put down his quill and gazed at the boy before him when he entered.

"Harry. What do I owe the pleasure?" the man said, looking ever as impassive.

"I have an essay father…" Harry began. "It is on basilisk, and I was wondering if perhaps you would give me an idea how to get started- say, the most important thing about a basilik?"

Voldemort folded his hands over the piece of parchment.

"Loyalty. You will not find any other creature so loyal as a basilik," he said.

Harry nodded, wondering how to work that into his essay.

"Thank you," Harry said. "I think that will work."

He turned to leave, but his father had spoke again.

"Harry, I am throwing a little get together tonight. Official business of course, but I have invited those with young wizards and witches to bring them as well," he said. "There will be a separate place for you to be once I am to discuss business with my followers."

"Oh," Harry said, excitement leaping inside of him. He hadn't seen any of his friends since they departed from school. "Oh, okay."

"Proper attire is required. Have Latch bring it up to you at a quarter to seven. At seven our guests should be arriving."

Harry smiled, although his father's face was a blank as ever.

"Great, I'll finish the essay and be ready then," he said, and walked out of the room, excited that he would get to spend some time with his friends tonight. He rarely got to, not when he was staying with his father.

Voldemort had seen Harry's excited smile; the one thing he had not been able to worm out of the boy was the way he always showed his emotions- whether angry, sad or happy. He detested that, yet over all, the boy composed himself with dignity and he had the stature and the aura of one of great nobility.

Voldemort felt a twinge of excitement fill him up. The boy's seventeenth birthday was coming up soon. And once the Dark Mark was branded on his left arm, he would belong to his side forever.

'Keep your friends close,' Voldemort thought. 'But keep your enemies closer.'


	2. Chapter 2

The Beginning of the End

Voldemort decides, upon seeing the infant Harry, that instead of killing him, he will raise him, to create a formidable and powerful ally. But what happens when Harry, age 16, heir to the Death Eater throne, discovers the truth about his past?

J.K. Rowling owns everything. I am nothing.

Okay… so no reviews I see… lazy lazy readers you all!!!

But thank you to jc52185 and 2KAZUMA who put this story on their story alert list!

Chapter 1

At exactly a quarter to seven, Harry called for Latch, who promptly arrived with a set of deep navy robes, silky to the touch and trimmed in silver. Harry pulled them on and looked at himself in the mirror, hoping that he looked good. Bellatrix's daughter Keaira would be coming, who at fifteen, had gone from being withdrawn and shy at fourteen, to a beautiful girl almost overnight.

With thoughts of her floating in his head, thinking about how he would appear to be absolutely cool in her presence, he went over to his dresser and grabbed a brush, tugging it through his hair. No matter what he did to it, it was as unruly as ever. He sighed, and relenting, he used a bit of the Super Straight Miraculous Hair Potion on the dresser his friends had gotten him as a joke for last Christmas.

It worked, although Harry did not like how his bangs fell into his eyes, now that his hair was stick straight. Just as he was thinking about just taking a shower to get rid of the potion and enduring his natural hair's messiness, Latch popped into his room, telling him that his father was waiting downstairs for him. Sighing, Harry left his room, and walked down the two flights of stairs to the main entrance hall, where another house-elf, Penny, was greeting the first of Voldemort's guests, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy.

They gave their coats to Penny who hung them up, and turned to greet Harry.

"Harry, how are you doing?" Lucius said, shaking his hand.

"Good, you?"

"Nothing to complain about," Lucius said.

Narcissa embraced him, kissing the air beside his cheek.

"I hope to find you well," she said. "Draco forgot something in the carriage, he'll be here shortly."

Harry nodded. "Thanks," he said, excitement building up in him over seeing his best friend.

A house-elf led the pair away, but Harry decided to stay and greet Draco. He snuck off to the side a little, hiding in the natch between the door and the wall. The door swung open, and Harry was hidden behind it. A blond boy entered, taking off his cloak as he did and shaking snow from his head.

As he threw his coat to Penny, Harry tackled him, and for a wild second there was a flurry of punches and curses being thrown around.

"Bastard!" Draco snapped as they broke apart. "You ruined my hair! Just because yours is absolutely horrendous-!"

Harry laughed as he watched Draco pat down his hair into its former, manageable self.

"Hey!" he said, "Does it really look that bad?"

"Yes! And for fuck's sake, you gave me a wrinkle in my dress robes!" Draco said, smoothing down an invisible wrinkle on his sleeve down.

"Oh yeah? What about the time you burned mine off at the formal?" Harry retorted.

"You deserved it! You put Veritaserum in my drink!" Draco snapped.

"Yeah, you went around telling Pansy that you really liked it when she did that thing with her tongue-"

"Shh!" Draco said, although he looked less angry. Both boys shared smiles before they started to walk down the hall together.

"How have you been?" Draco asked.

"Oh, shut in here? Wonderful…" Harry said.

Draco grinned.

"You?"

Draco shrugged. "Went to London for a bit, then my parents just decided to go back to Wales. Bit of a bore."

They had reached the dining area, and Harry led the way in through the heavy oak doors. The place was huge, the fireplace lit, and a large table in the middle. Voldemort was sitting at the head of it, with Lucius and Narcissa to his left. They had been talking but stopped once the boys entered, goblets of wine already in front of them.

"Harry, take a seat," Voldemort said.

Harry sat next on his father's right side, Draco next to him. A house elf poured them wine.

"Lucius was just telling me about the exceptional talent you're displaying in the Dark Arts and Potions classes at Durmstrang Draco," Voldemort said.

"Yeah, both advanced honors classes too," Draco said.

Voldemort nodded.

The doors opened and in walked the Avery's. After them were the Parkinson's, Pansy smiling in Draco's direction radiantly. Blaise Zambini walked in with his mother, he looking just as haughty as her. The Goyle's and Crabbe's arrived together, Vincent and Greg both sitting side by side next to Blaise. Many others joined them, the last to arrive were Bellatrix and her daughter.

Keaira smiled in Harry's direction, and with a flick of her long black hair took a seat with her mother.

Voldemort stood up.

"My fellow Death Eaters," he said, raising his goblet. "To the continuing success of our reign."

Everyone toasted and drank. After the food, the house elves took away the plates and vanished.

"My followers," Voldemort said standing up. "Let us retire somewhere else. Harry, you may take Draco and the rest anywhere else."

Harry and Draco stood up, and almost immediately Greg, Vincent, Blaise, Pansy and Keaira followed out the door.

"So- what are we doing?" Draco asked, as soon as they were out of the room.

Harry grinned.

"There's a terrace on the fifth floor. It's stocked up, if you get what I mean," he said.

"Harry," Pansy said looking incredulous. "Are you thinking about what I think you're thinking about? Getting drunk when we have to go back to our parents in a few hours?"

"Yeah… So?" Harry quipped.

Pansy shrugged. "Just asking. Let's go!"

On the Terrace, which was large and made of white marble with a few comfy chairs and a sofa in the middle, Harry had Latch bring out the two bottles of firewhiskey he had been saving for such an occasion.

Harry, Draco and Pansy all lit cigarettes as soon as they stepped outside, and after a few shots of the firewhiskey, everyone seemed to be laughing and talking more freely.

Pansy had her head on Draco's shoulder as he played with her hair absentmindedly. Vincent and Greg were locked on a discussion about whether or not a snitch that had been caught but lost by one team's seeker could be legally caught by the other team's seeker. Blaise was trying, with very futile results to explain that it was perfectly legal. Harry occupied himself with smoking a cigarette, and as he stole a look at Keaira, he noticed that she was looking directly at him.

He quickly looked away, but he could feel her gaze. As he looked up again, he saw she was coming directly towards him. She plucked the cigarette from his lips, took a drag off of it, and dropped into the chair beside him.

"You don't smoke," Harry said numbly.

She smirked. "Maybe I do."

"Oh."

She smirked once again, took another drag.

"I think we both need another drink," she said.

Harry agreed and poured more into their glasses. His mind was hazy already, and his hand eye coordination was failing, but he didn't mind- the most beautiful girl in the world to him was sitting right next to him.

"So how's um… school? You're taking your exams this year right?" Harry asked.

Keaira smirked. "You haven't seen me in how long and that's what you decide to talk about?"

Harry drank some more, feeling his face blushing.

"Oh… well what did you want me to ask about?"

Keaira leaned in, her lips almost touching Harry's ear. Harry wondered if she could smell the potion he used on his hair and wondered why on earth that mattered to him right now.

"Ask me when did I want to have you all to myself," she whispered.

Harry took a quick look around at the others, Pansy and Draco drunk and happy, giggling about who knows what- Blaise, Greg and Vincent still arguing over snitches.

"Now," he said.

"Good," she said, her lips twisting into a mysterious smile.

Harry stood up and grabbed her hand. They stumbled a bit haphazardly over the door to the inside of the mansion.

Harry's mind did a whirl- where to take her? He dragged her along the hallway, both giggling at the absurdity of it all- their parents downstairs, their friends out on the porch, them sneaking away…

Harry finally pulled her into a smaller room, a guest bedroom that was never used. A fire sprang up in the grate instantly, as all the fireplaces in the mansion did, revealing a large four poster bed, dark hardwood floors and a leather sofa.

Harry turned to face Keaira who smirked at him. Without a word, she kissed him, softly and then passionately. Harry felt her hands traveling up and down his chest, and his wish was granted as she unbuttoned his dress robes. They fell away, revealing a plain undershirt shirt and pants. He unbuttoned hers as well, a very short, tight dress underneath…

Before he had any time to think anything other than "holy fucking shit…" their clothes were discarded and they were on the bed.

Harry was thinking that there was nothing more beautiful than her naked body before he was lost in a sea of sensations, all new, exciting and pleasurable, rocking back and forth in unison with her hips…

They lay on the bed for a while after, both naked, her playing with a random lock of his hair.

"Good?" she whispered.

"Very good," Harry breathed. "We need to get back though…"

Keaira smiled. "Okay."

They quickly pulled their clothes back on, both seemingly a little less drunk now, and walked out of the room, down the hallway, and back out onto the terrace, where their friends all stared at them as they walked back, knowing smirks on their faces.

Latch appeared almost instantaneously, before any words could be said.

"Your parents request your presence downstairs," the house elf said, waiting patiently by the door to show them downstairs.

"Okay, every one out then…" Harry said jokingly.

They stood up, all a little unsteady, Pansy giggling as she had to be steadied by Draco as she teetered drunkedly.

"Sober spells?" Draco suggested, eyeing Pansy.

Everyone agreed, and Draco (who was the most gifted at getting them right, because they could be tricky) charmed each of them, so that although they still felt a little drunk, they all appeared sober.

Harry and Draco fell back from the group.

"Tell me you did what I think you did," Draco said in a whisper with a smirk.

Harry grinned. "You know it."

Draco punched Harry in the arm. "Good job!"

A few minutes later, they joined their parents downstairs in the foyer, and they all said goodbye.

Draco threw his arm around Harry's shoulders. "Oh c'mon, cheer up, it's only a few more days!"

Harry laughed. They would be going back to school soon, it was true.

"See yah Harry!"

"Owl me!"

"Oh, God, Pansy don't CRY…"

"I'll miss you all so so much…"

"If you don't give me back my socks you stole…"

"That was Greg!"

"Blaise, you better owl me."

"See yah Draco!"

"Bye Harry!"

The foyer was full of them saying goodbye, and them almost as quickly as they had come, everyone was gone. The door swung shut on Keaira, who had looked back and mouthed "Bye," to Harry, and then he was left alone in the mansion once more.

Review!! Next chapter: Durmstrang! Hogwarts is coming too!


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